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The Prisoner of Truth The Prisoner of Truth
by Leah Sellers
2012-07-06 11:25:03
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The eager, Young Journalist was honestly surprised.  “What ?  You like Prison ?”
 
“Yep, sure do.”
 
“But why ?  Don’t you want to be Free to Live your Own Life ?”
 
“Free ?  Are you kiddin’ ?  On the Outside ?  That’s a load of messy goose puckey,” The Prisoner harrumphed derisively.
 

“On the Outside, you Suckers have got massive unemployment, primarily due to the fact that the Planet is over populated, and our Socio/Economic Systems are too rigidly outdated, corrupted and overwhelmed to do anything meaningful about it, at this moment in time.  There will never be enough so called jobs for everyone.  It’s statistically impossible.  It’s one of the many reasons that Global Empires use Wars and Dis-ease to ‘cull out’ the masses of the poor and unnecessary.”
 
“But instead of facin’ the cold, hard reality of that fact, because everyone is so brainwashed into the Gotta Work For The Man Plan mentality or your worthless to Society.  The Global Systems will take a long time to Evolve into somethin’ better.  You and I will never Live to see things Change.  And that’s a Fact.  But eventually Humanity will Evolve into yet another Higher State of Being.  If it doesn’t it will destroy itself, and that’s just too depressin’ to even consider.  I’m a cock-eyed Optimist, and I say that eventually we’ll Evolve into somethin’ better.”
 
The Prisoner stared the Young Journalist in the Eye.  “You just think you’re Free, Buck’o.  You’ve got drones and cameras spyin’ on you in your sleep same as me.  Ha !”
 
“You’ve got a lot of boneheaded political leaders that openly state that they want everybody, but themselves and the rich to go without Healthcare and sink into indigent homelessness.”
 
“Heck, they’re stealin’ your Homes right out from underneath you with scams and flim-flams that would land me, and everyone else in this Jailhouse, right back behind bars.  They don’t care whether or not you starve to death out on the street, as long as they get your money and your vote before you croak.  It’s just one less lackey to have to worry about.  One less gaping mouth to Feed, Clothe and Shelter.”
 
“You’ve got Bucket-headed Bankers, Rabid Speculators, Corporate Moose-heads, and Political Hot Shots stealin’ every dime out of your pockets that they can scam and con out of you.”
 
“Heck, the Corporate Money Men and Kick-back Politicos, have even got their clutches on this For Profit Prison.  They charge me rent and fees for every day I’m locked up in here.  I’ll never get out of debt.  But the rent and fees are cheaper than anything I’d have to pay on the Outside, so it’s a much appreciated benefit for bunkin’ in’ here for awhile.  It‘s better than sleepin‘ under a bridge somewhere.  Ha !”
 
“On the Outside, the Elitist Crooks and Thieves smile in your face while shankin’ you in the back.  At least in Prison, I know who my Friends and Enemies really are.  You know who’s got your back.”
 
“In Prison, I gotta roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, a pot to poop in, toilet paper to clean up with, hot and cold runnin’ water, three square meals a day, a t.v., music in the Rec Hall, a gym to work out in, library books to read, therapy sessions, healthcare, a dentist, conjugal visits and a work program to participate in.  For a Poor Man or a Middle Class Man on the downside of this roller coaster of an Economy, I’d have to say that I’ve got the better end of this Deal.  And my sins are no better and no worse that the 1% givin’ you 99% the Big Lyin’ Runaround right now.  Ha !”
 
“I’m just small potatoes, kiddo.  I snatch computers, t.v.’s, microwaves, small appliances, jewelry.  Quick money items for any out-of-town pawn shops.”
 
“Now, the Big Honchos and their Speculatin‘ Speculators.  They steal people’s mortgages, pensions, investments, Hopes and Dreams with the push of a computer key, and the cold impassivity of some fancy numerical algorithm.  Now, that’s Grand Theft that gives one pause.”
 
“I go out and shoot a cannon into some ‘ole cow field, and cops swarm all over me.  And then it’s off to Prison, and I’m forgotten.  End of damages for the Outside.”
 
“The Big Honchos and their Speculators sneeze away people’s Life savings and years of hard work in the blink of an eye, and no cops, no Prison, but the reverberations of The Grand Shaft they gave to ordinary folks everywhere are felt around the World.  In fact, nothing changes, and the Big Honchos and their Speculatin’ Jackles go right back to their old bad habits preening over how they got by with Social/Cultural Murder.  Ha !”
 
“Everything is Relative, my Man.  Everything.”
 
In some ways, Life in prison is more Honest and Transparent than on the Outside.  In here, We know who the Warden - the Big Dog is - what the Rules to the Game are - who the Guards - the Barkin’ Dogs are, what they Want, what they Need in order for a fella’ like me to Survive with a minimum of aggravation and grief.”
 
“Can you say that on the Outside ?”  The prisoner asked with a sly, knowing grin.  “I don’t think so.  You live in a World of Smoke ‘n Mirrors.  A World of Big Lies and little Life drainin’ nibbles at your Identity - your Soul each and every minute of each and every day and night.”
 
“Heck, dude.  I Freely do things to get me Here - in Jail - when I Need a Vacation - a break from the World you flatfoot around in, in an Unconscious stupor.  I come Here to Relax - to veg - to get away from the big Craziness Out There.  The Craziness in Here is manageable - is a predictable Cake Walk compared to the mine fields and Life Suckin’ Swamplands Outside of these Walls.”
 
“I know.  I know. I can see it in your eyes.  You think I’m nuts.  I’m just a worthless Ne’er-Do-Well - a stinkin’ Jail-Hound - a Prisoner.  That’s alright.  I understand.  I was once a lot like you, but I’ve Evolved.  And that’s the Truth.  A Truth that has Freed me from the Inside Out.”
 
“Why, even Prisons Evolve, dude.  I’m not on a Chain-Gang.  I’m not out breakin’ rocks.  In my work program I plant things.  Trees, bushes, flowers, Gardens.  I Grow things.  Now, that’s Enlightened Evolution.”
 
“Truth is the same way.  It Evolves.  Truth goes through its own Revolutions and Evolutions Inside you, and Manifests itself Outside of you.  We have a tendency to Live Out our Truths.  So, when you Eyeball one floatin’ your way you gotta reach out and grab it.  The Truth you grab will begin to work its molecular magic - its transformin’ quantum physics on you right away.  That’s just the Nature of Truths.”
 
“Truths are Relative.  And Truths of Freedom are Relative.  It’s all about Location, Location, Location and Time and Space Occupation. Ha !”
 
“And me, I’m just a Monk, and this Prison is my Sacrilegious Monastery. And until the World finds the Courage and Strength to Change for the Better,  my Religion is Survival.  My Commandments are the Rules of the Game of Survival.  I Pray on my Feet - not my knees.  I can Meditate and Relax in Here.  Can’t do that much on the Outside.  Too many distractions.  Too much unnecessary pressure to do too many things that make no sense at all, other than to better and enrich Someone else’s Pocketbook.  Someone else’s Mirage of Freedom.  Someone else’s Agenda.  Certainly not mine.”
 
The Prisoner looked out into the Prison Garden and sighed,  “So, what was your original question ?  What do you Need me to say to make the story your writin’ interestin’ to your Boss and your Readers ?  What do the Folks Outside of these Walls and Iron Doors think they want to hear from the likes of me ?  Tell me, and we’ll fill-in the blanks.  After all, the Truth can be a very dangerous and catalytically Freeing thing.”
 
“We don’t wanna’ scare or disappoint anybody.  Better to let them remain Sleep-Walkers stumblin’ around in the Outside World, feelin’ better about themselves and the Nightmarish Predicament they’re in than to startle ‘em Awake.  You know what they say about Sleep-Walkers.  Best to leave ’em alone, and let them wander back to Bed on their own.  Wake ’em up before they’re ready and they can go Crazy on you or even die.  Don’t want that on my Conscience.”
 
“Knowin’ the Head Honchos here, as I do, they’d probably find a way to charge me another fee or two for it. Ha !”
 
The Prisoner stretched and yawned.  “Anyway, Truth’s an elusive Energy.  It’s like chasin’ molecules here, there and everywhere.  No end to that Chase either, once you’ve had a taste of it.  Holds onto you forever in one form or another.  Leastwise, that’s been my Experience with it.”
 
“Of course, I can only speak to my own Truths.  You’ll have to find your own little molecular Truths for yourself.  They’re floatin’ Out There somewhere.”
 
“So, fire away with your Questions, dude.  “ ‘Cause another one of those many little molecular Truths is that we’re all Prisoners of one kind or another.  All on a Quest against Gravity toward Freedom.  We All just do the best we can with the Prisons, Truths and Freedoms we find ourselves Livin’ with and Livin’ within.”
 
“Oh, by the way. There’s a Truth zippin’ past ya’ right now.  If I were you, I’d take a Chance, and grab it.”



   
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Eva2012-07-06 12:18:26
Truths are relative, indeed.


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